


Time After Time

by goldenzingy46



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Decapitation, Department of Mysteries, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Open Ending, Plot Twist, Self-Sacrifice, Time Travel, Time Turner (Harry Potter), Tragedy, Unspeakable Draco Malfoy, Unspeakable Harry Potter, Veil of Death (Harry Potter), ambiguous - Freeform, as in it is literally ambiguous idk how else to describe it, mortal peril, time loops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26491738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenzingy46/pseuds/goldenzingy46
Summary: Harry makes a mistake, and he sees Draco die.Time changes.Harry makes a mistake, and he sees Ron die.Time changes.Harry makes a mistake, and he sees Hermione die.Time changes.Harry--Wait.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 20
Kudos: 64
Collections: H/D Hurt!Fest 2020





	Time After Time

**Author's Note:**

> hhhhh suffer boys suffer

“Harry, be a dear and fetch me a coffee, will you?” Draco asks, and Harry does so with a smile and a wink. He knows the pains of trying to get anything whilst doing paperwork when an Unspeakable, after all, he is one himself.

(What? Did he use Hermione’s position as Minister to have Ron instated as the official Auror partner for his section of the Department of Mysteries? Yes, absolutely.)

“How much have you got left to do? You can take it in the coffee room, I’ll lock up.”

Draco was one of the best partners Harry could dream of, and it was only fair he did what little he could in return. The Veil of Death was temperamental at best, and Draco’s steady progress on speaking with the dead was an asset Harry couldn’t afford to lose.

He might even go as far as to call them friends.

Draco gathered his files together and moved into the far more comfortable room, the only area with soft seating in the entirety of the labyrinth that Harry called work. It was hard enough finding his way when he’d worked here for years, he could only imagine the fate of a robber.

Although there was a quick and easy back door, Harry was in charge of locking it and it would be sealed up tight. No need for risk.

There was the usual clatter that announced the arrival of Hermione and Ron – Harry gave a cursory glance around; he was fairly sure he was locked up. The research papers on the Veil had hopefully arrived, and Harry couldn’t wait.

This could be his big break.

Harry ducked into the room, smiling. “How’s work, then?”

(Which, of course, is _always_ the wrong thing to say to Hermione if you don’t actually want to listen to four hours of ‘this employee did this and why can’t I work with intelligent people?’.)

Draco and Ron winced right alongside him as Hermione launched into her lecture about the standard of the Ministry and her work in cleaning it up, and just as Harry was about to try a diversion, there was an almighty _crash_ , and the sound of maybe fifteen people clambering through an unlocked door.

_No no no nononononono._

He thought he’d locked the door—clearly he hadn’t, but he thought he had, and if Hermione or Ron or Draco – _Draco_ , with his soft smiles and gentle hands, always helpful, always there.

Running, running, wands out. Fighting.

“C’mon, man, just tell us how to resurrect someone with this veil? We’ll leave you alone after that.”

That was his life’s research, they were not going to undo it.

Fighting, fighting, spell after spell after spell. Thud thud crunch, the wall comes down.

Then Draco—no, not Draco, how can it be _Draco_ —is hit by the wrong spell, wrong time, and he’s falling, falling, falling down.

Thud.

He hits the floor, lifeless.

No. No, no, no. Nonononononono _no._

Draco can’t be dead.

Yet grey eyes stare unseeing, limbs sprawled in an inhuman way, and he was _dead._

Dead, dead, dead.

And Harry was running, fleeing, through door after door, and the ruined Time Turners lay before him.

“Reparo,” he whispers, nothing happening.

Repair spell after repair spell flies off of his lips, and it _works._

Maybe raw desperation was an ingredient they’d missed.

And Harry was turning, turning, turning.

Time flashed around him and he landed, safe, _alive_. He could change things!

But-

_No._

He’s too late to lock the door, too late to stop them, they’re here—

They’re here and there’s no time to warn his friends, only _Stupefy_ Draco and hope it works—

Draco crashed to the floor and he’s not dead, just unconscious, but _safe_ —

But Ron and Hermione are still running, running, and he hears screaming. So much screaming…

He wanted the screaming to stop.

But it was ‘Mione screaming, he realised, dully, the way you do when you know you made a mistake and everything turns into a haze.

His feet moved without his permission, and Harry found himself standing before-

_Oh no._

Ginger hair matted with blood, Ron’s head lying on the floor in a pool of crimson, but where is his body? He can’t see it anywhere, and oh- _Oh-_

 _Ron_ , he thinks. Twenty-four years and now Ron is gone.

Harry can’t breathe.

He sees Draco dead, Ron dead, the bodies at the Battle of Hogwarts, Voldemort flying backwards, Bellatrix hitting the floor, Fred in an explosion, Cedric is hit by an Avada Kedavra—

No.

Harry was turning, turning, turning.

Time flashed around him and his feet hit the floor and he wasn’t too late to lock the door!

They’re safe, safe, _safe_ , and Harry relaxed when he heard a second set of footsteps-

Hermione strode in the check on the disturbance, and spells fly- one, two, three, Harry loses count, acid green smashed into her, her shield useless and far, far too late— and Harry was turning, turning, turning.

Time flashed around him and he landed, painfully, on the floor. He locked the door, listening for the _click_ that signifies the lock, and soundproofed it. They can’t get hurt now.

Then Draco made his routine patrol of the locks, and Harry saw the spells coming. Draco didn’t.

No.

Not Draco.

Not his beautiful, kind Draco, who he’d seen die before and he couldn’t let die now.

Not like this.

Harry made a leap of faith—

—he felt pain.

"Draco, I love you," four words he never got to say.

And he never will.

***

The Veil was hungry.

So, so hungry.

There had been the man, the sad one, and the nice Unspeakable seemed to be looking for him, but was feeding Her all the same.

The nice Unspeakable was dead.

The Veil was hungry.

The Veil reached into death, finding the nice Unspeakable. He seemed to be looking for the sad man and his creators, and some other humans of some sort.

She reached out and shoved him away.

He fell.

Death is only a fleeting thing, sometimes.

Run, Harry, run.

**Author's Note:**

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